Oh time ye may pass off from this world of deceit
Ye shall pass off from here ye shall not stop the retreat
Every alcove in the orchard lamemts for passion
The forlorn breeze makes every nook gloomy howeve
Evip has started its unity over the land anew
While the companies of man of faith remain a few
Tyranny is inflictinh the wounds with all its vehemence
Every door blossoms with the soul of oppressed